Contaminated Thoughts
by Wendy Parkinson
Summary: Malcolm has a hard time in decon. Missing scene from Sleeping Dogs.


Title: Contaminated Thoughts  
Author: Wendy Parkinson  
Email: wendyparkinson@hotmail.com  
Category: Humour  
Spoilers: Sleeping Dogs.  
Rating: PG13/mature  
Content Warnings: adult themes of a sexual nature  
Summary: Malcolm gets more than he bargained for on his first visit to decon. A missing scene from Sleeping Dogs.  
Date: 15th July 2002  
  
Disclaimer: Enterprise and its characters belong to Paramount. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.  
  
All feedback and constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated. No flames please.  
  
  
  
CONTAMINATED THOUGHTS  
  
  
  
"Make sure you cover your bodies completely with the gel," said Phlox cheerily, as he shut the door of the decontamination chamber with a smart thud.  
  
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed stared resolutely at the closed door. If he stared at the door, he couldn't look at the two scantily clad women sharing the decon chamber with him and he knew what would happen if he did that - he'd stare, he'd lust and he'd embarrass himself. Why couldn't he be spending his first confinement in decon on his own?  
  
Oh well, he thought to himself, best get on with it. Still facing the door, his back to his companions, he unscrewed the lid on the jar of gel Phlox had given him. The stuff was blue and transparent and smelt faintly of lemons. Gingerly, he dipped his index finger into the sticky morass, extracting a golf ball sized dollop of gel, then shuddered slightly. It felt as slimy and greasy as it looked.   
  
He smeared the glob of goo awkwardly across his chest, matting the hairs together in sticky clumps. He fervently hoped that the stuff was easy to wash off.   
  
A sudden squeal made him swing round without thinking and what he saw was the stuff his fantasies were made of. Hoshi was standing with her back to T'Pol, as the Vulcan massaged her with the gel. T'Pol had pulled Hoshi's T-shirt right up, exposing almost all of her back and making the front of the T-shirt strain against the underside of Hoshi's perfectly formed breasts. Malcolm swallowed hard.  
  
"Are you all right?" T'Pol asked.  
  
"Yeah, sorry. It's a little cold, that's all," replied the ensign.  
  
I can tell, thought Malcolm wryly, as he suddenly found it difficult to breathe, unable to drag his eyes away from Hoshi's trim figure. A rush of heat enveloped him as he watched Hoshi smear her hands with gel, then slip them under her T-shirt, coating her breasts. Dear god, he thought desperately, what next? The downward progress of the heat and the sudden tightness of his boxers brought him back to reality with a bump. He quickly turned back towards the door, hoping neither woman had noticed his mounting embarrassment.  
  
Think of something asexual, Malcolm, he told himself firmly, something that doesn't involve half naked women. Then he heard Hoshi say, "Let me do your back now," to T'Pol. No, Malcolm, he told himself, do not think about T'Pol's back, her breasts, her bum, or any other wantonly exposed part of her. And remember she's a Vulcan, for god's sake! Summoning up every ounce of self control, he stayed resolutely facing the door despite an almost overwhelming urge to turn round.   
  
Think of something else, he told himself, as he smeared the blue goo over his arms. For god's sake think of something else. I know, he thought, with a sudden flash of inspiration - this week's cricket scores!  
  
He began muttering to himself, "Kent beat Lancashire by three wickets, Northants and Glamorgan drew, Notts beat Sussex by 174 runs...." He glanced downwards and was relieved to see his tactic was working. Better carry on to make sure. "Leicestershire beat Middlesex...."  
  
A cold hand on his shoulder made him let out a strangled yelp. "Sorry, Lieutenant, I didn't mean to make you jump, but someone's got to do your back."  
  
"It's all right, Ensign, I can manage," he stammered as panic began to set in. God knows what might happen if he let her run those delicate hands over his body. In a futile attempt to demonstrate his self-sufficiency, he tried to put some of the gel on his back but only succeeded in splattering the blue gloop on the floor.  
  
Hoshi pursed her lips. "See what I mean? You need help. There's no need to be embarrassed, sir," she said quietly. "I don't bite..." Malcolm thought he could hear a smile in her voice and he almost began to relax as her hands rhythmically massaged his back. It did feel nice... quite soothing, in fact. Not sexual in the slightest. It could be Trip applying the gel to his back; the fact that it was a half-naked stunningly beautiful woman was completely immaterial... wasn't it? He chose to ignore the tendrils of desire beginning to weave their way downwards and concentrated on the feel of Hoshi's hands tracing languid patterns on his back.  
  
He was just congratulating himself on how mature his behaviour was - he could be touched by a beautiful woman without his mind descending to the gutter, and without the aid of the County Championship! - when Hoshi added mischievously, "At least not unless you want me to." Taken totally by surprise, Malcolm twisted round to look at her, then became painfully aware that her comment had shot straight to his already more-than-ready groin and he was in dire need of the recitation of some batting averages.  
  
Hoshi's face was the epitome of shock and embarrassment at what she'd said. "Oh god, I'm sorry," she stuttered. "That was very unprofessional... appalling thing to say to a superior officer.... totally out of line...."   
  
Before he managed to stop himself, Malcolm glanced downwards, just to check if his problem was as big as he thought it was.  
  
It was.  
  
When he looked up again, Hoshi was staring straight at the bulge in his boxers, her mouth forming a little 'o' of shock. Her face was bright scarlet. Malcolm thought he was going to die of shame. Damn Starfleet issue boxers for being so tight! And damn her for being so bloody attractive! Feeling the red heat of embarrassment rush to his cheeks, he made a belated attempt to cover himself with his hands and span on his heel towards the door.  
  
"I think it's me that owes you the apology, Ensign," he blurted out. God, he'd never be able to look her in the eye again, let alone hold a sensible conversation with her. What must she think of him? He'd let himself react like a hormonal teenager, not a highly trained Starfleet officer. Then he had a very unpleasant thought - she could report him to the Captain for sexual harassment. Hello 'Crewman' Reed, he thought, glumly.  
  
Then he had an even worse thought - if the Sub-Commander had noticed, she'd probably have him drummed out of Starfleet and, taking his behaviour as final proof of the human race's immaturity, she'd probably report the entire incident to Vulcan High Command. He shot a quick glance towards T'Pol who was sitting on the bench, apparently meditating and blissfully unaware of what was going on. Malcolm let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Thank goodness for small mercies, he thought ruefully.  
  
A painfully awkward silence stretched between Malcolm and Hoshi. He knew he ought to say something, but he had no idea where to start. Then he felt a soft hand rest gently on his shoulder. "How do you know that you weren't having the same effect on me?" she whispered in his ear. "Don't forget women can hide it better than men."  
  
Malcolm hesitantly turned round to face Hoshi. "You're just saying that to make me feel better," he said disbelievingly. She couldn't possibly have been feeling things like that about him. No, not when there were men on board like Trip Tucker with his ready wit and pumped up pecs. No, small, quiet Malcolm Reed didn't stand a chance.  
  
The communications officer squeezed his shoulder, making him look into her eyes. She smiled softly. "Have dinner with me tonight and you'll find out."  
  
Malcolm couldn't believe his ears. This amazing woman was actually interested in him? And after what had just happened? He managed to stammer, "That would be great... I'd love to..." as Hoshi smiled again, then with one last squeeze, took her hand away from his shoulder and went and sat down next to T'Pol.  
  
"Now let's relax and get the smell of that Klingon ship out of our nostrils once and for all," she said, patting the empty space on the seat next to her.  
  
Sitting down next to Hoshi, Malcolm let the peace and quiet wash over him. Perhaps being stuck in decon with two beautiful women wasn't so bad after all. 


End file.
